Viewpoint
by Stinky Horse
Summary: When Izaya gets amnesia, his view on humanity and all of the world is completely wiped clean, giving him a clean slate to start on. How will he act now that he has a whole new look on humanity? Will his memories come back? If they do, will he revert back to his old way of seeing the world?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Shizuo Heiwajima wasn't known to be the kindest, despite his name which stood for peaceful island, or serene man.

His savage outbreaks had earnt himself many nicknames- the very embodiment of violence, a monster, the forte of Ikebukuro. By using public property as his weapon, the very sight of a flying vending machine had become a sign for the Ikebukuro citizens to scatter before they got in the way of the rampaging brute. Angering him was one of the greatest no-no's that a fellow Ikebukuro resident could commit, and few would live to tell the tale.

Just as infamous as Shizuo's strength, was the mysterious man in the black fur coat that he always chased around. The dexterity and agility of the other was incredible, and something to be awed at. Not even the fastest of vending machines could hit him, making him just as much of an enigma as the strange brutish bartender.

Ikebukuro didn't know much of the relationship between the two, but what could be made certain, was that they hated each other and wouldn't mind finding each other dead.

They weren't wrong either. Shizuo didn't want much else than to get the informant out of his life, since he knew firsthand what a blood-sucking termite the man could be. Making him lose his job, disappoint Kasuka, and many more… just thinking about it infuriated him. When the chance to kill the flea came, he decided that he would take it with no hesitations. He just didn't imagine that the opportunity to would come so quickly.

The screams echoed through the streets, the people scurried away from the growing puddle of crimson red. Shizuo stomped over, a stop sign firm in his grasp as he glared furiously at the motionless body slumped on the sidewalk.

"Oi, Izaya, get up," Shizuo growled, prodding the body with the sharp metal end of the sign, expecting the other to revitalize and bounce back like the immortal being he praised himself to be. He received no reaction from the seemingly dead man. The realization made him happy, but nevertheless the horrified reaction of the people irritated him to no end. He became the victim of the terrified stares of many people.

"Dammit dammit dammit…" he chanted under his breath, tossing the sign aside and glanced around at the crowd, who were starting to murmur quietly and nervously at the event.

As he snapped the cellphone of the frightened teenager who was recording the incident, he reached a conclusion; he should bring the flea to Shinra and get away before more commotion ruined his day. Just as he moved to help the informant though, he stopped and reconsidered. Why should he help out his mortal enemy, the scoundrel who messed with the lives of many undeserving people like they were nothing more than the pieces on his chessboard?

He gave one last glance at the pale face of the informant, before he turned and abandoned the injured man there. Such a bastard didn't deserve any help, he told himself, as he walked away before the police or the ambulance were called. Pushing the tiny feeling of guilt aside, he continued to justify his reasoning to leave a helpless injured man on streets, especially when he caused the injuries himself. No, Izaya wasn't a helpless man, even when he wasn't conscious he was still an evil entity deserving of punishment. Wasn't he?

"Dammit dammit dammit dammit…" he chanted, as his voice blended into the sirens of an ambulance.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

There were many ways to describe how he felt, but there wasn't a certain way he would like to.

For starters, his head hurt. There was a throbbing sensation on the side of his head near his temple, but there was also a searing, torturous feel all along the inside of his head, like someone was stir-frying his brain at a fast food restaurant which specializes in hot jalapeno foods.

He could barely think with his head in such a condition, and the agony was so painful that he promptly just gave up thinking. He wouldn't mind being a mindless blob until the pain wore away.

Unfortunately, the outside world wasn't thinking the same thing. Suddenly, a blinding white light struck his eyelids, piercing him right into the very insides of his brain. He heard himself give a cry of complaint as he curled in on himself, only to cause more pain as when he felt a particularly bad bruise on his abdomen ring out in fury.

"Ahaha! Sorry!" a painfully cheerful voice said loudly, hurting his ears and making him feel incredibly annoyed.

"Turn off the lights and shut up…" he murmured, but his scratchy voice translated the words into a meaningless garble that the person in his room had somehow understood. He breathed a sigh of relief as the darkness returned, and he relaxed into a more comfortable position on the rough and bumpy bed.

"You act like you have a hangover," the man said, seeming incredibly amused as he sat in what seemed to be a chair beside him, "Well, I guess that's fine because I rarely get to see you like this."

Despite the agonizing headache, he squinted open an eye, to see a man in a doctor's coat sitting beside him. He had glasses, longer brown hair, and an irritatingly bright smile on his face. It took a while to realize that he knew this person.

"What's with that look?" the man asked, making a strange face that he gradually realized was a pout, "I came all this way to visit you and this is what I get? Don't tell me you don't recognize me already, it's only been so long Izaya-kun!"

Judging by the way the man talked, the man knew him. He knew that he had been somewhat close to the man as well. Suddenly, with the realization that he didn't recognize him even though he knew this person, he realized he didn't know what was happening or where he was. He realized he didn't know who he was.

"...Izaya?" the man in front of him asked, seeming confused at the alarmed expression on the hospitalized man's face, "Is there something wrong?"

Izaya? Was he Izaya? He stiffly swallowed, and looked at the person sitting in front of him, "Ehm, what happened?"

"Ah, well then!" the man in front of him grinned, seeming happy to tell the tale, "It seems that Shizuo-kun has finally managed to catch you and beat you up! You were bleeding pretty heavily from the head, you had a few ribs broken, and you know, the usual amount of bruises you'd get from being hit from a vending machine, but congratulations! Shizuo for some reason didn't finish you off and now you're here in the hospital! Any other questions my friend?"

None of what this person had said made any sense to him, but he stored it away in his head so he could reflect on it later. All he had gotten from the story, was that this person was his 'friend', and there was this person named Shizuo-kun who wanted to pretty much kill him and also put him into this hospital. That was nice. So if this person really was his 'friend', and the doctor's coat he wore wasn't just for show, there shouldn't be a problem with telling him about his current memory issue.

"Are you a doctor?" He inquired, looking at the man's face as if gathering all the information he could just be staring at his facial features.

"You know I am, sorta," the man replied, and started to frown, "Are you really okay? You're not acting like yourself."

"Well," He began, "I know that I know you, but I don't know you. So who are you?"

"What?" the man said, confused.

"In other words, I have amnesia, and I want to speak to a doctor," Izaya repeated patiently, giving a apathetic look to the man opposing to him, "Come on, do you speak Japanese?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"I said, don't know who I am, though judging by the way you address me, I'm guessing I'd be Izaya. Is that last name or first name? Since you called me a 'friend', and due to your bluntness, I'll guess first name. If I am Izaya, then this person you call Shizuo-kun probably put me in this hospital by throwing a vending machine at me. Why would he hate me and how is throwing a vending machine even human? Well, let's leave that for another time. You are dressed as a doctor, so assuming you are one, you should know what's wrong with me by the way I'm speaking. I have memory loss - or at least I am pretty sure I do - which I think is a common symptom of head trauma. What should I do now?"

Shinra was speechless, unknowing of how to respond. His high school classmate, friend, and at times annoyance was sitting there with this nonchalant expression on his face, like all of that was not as urgent as it really was.

"You really don't remember me?" Shinra asked, wanting to make sure this was not a trick of some kind, searching Izaya's face for any hints of trickery, only to get plain honesty and slight confusion.

"I'm starting to doubt your ability to be a doctor," Izaya replied, and folded his arms over his knees, "Should I repeat myself a third time? Do you need me to say it again a fourth?"

"Aheh… okay then…" Shinra said, and almost laughed at the strange complication, not sure if he could believe Izaya's words, knowing what a troll he could be, "I'm going to go get the doctors of this hospital, and they'll give you a scan to make sure your head's okay, though it was never really quite right to begin with, and they'll give you a more detailed conclusion about your status. Okay?"

"Yep," Izaya nodded, and waved goodbye as Shinra headed towards the door, still a little baffled at his friend's condition.

Celty, his beloved headless woman, was waiting for him in the guest area, and gave him a hug upon seeing him (which he happily returned).

"Celty my love! Have you missed me?" Shinra squealed, happily embracing her tight and burying his face in her bosoms, "Being away from you was almost unendurable~ especially being with Izaya when I'd rather be with you in bed- OOF!"

Celty's unnecessarily sharp fingers dug into his gut, (though he even loved her sharp fingers), coughing in embarrassment into her other hand.

Her fingers flew over her PDA, 'Don't be embarrassing! There are people watching.'

The words only served to stir up Shinra even more, as he exclaimed excitedly, "So, if there wasn't people watching, would you do it with me- OOFFFF! C-Celty, you sure are strong~!"

'So? How's Izaya?'

Shinra read the PDA and remembered what he was supposed to do, feeling disappointed that the mood had been ruined, "Ah right. It seems he has amnesia so I have to get the doctors."

'...eh?'

"I know, it's shocking right?" Shinra said, and gave a frown, "It doesn't even look like he was kidding. Are you done with your job?"

Celty nodded, as they headed towards the doctor staff room. The only reason Shinra had come to the hospital was because of Celty, who needed some help with her job since she needed to transport something to a patient in a hospital. She couldn't get in without a doctor's permit, which Shinra had happily volunteered to help with - though his doctor's permit wasn't very recognized since he was an illegal doctor after all.

What a coincidence that his fellow friend had been hospitalized there at the same time. Maybe it was fate, whatever, Shinra didn't care a lot about Izaya's well being - his primary concerns being to make Celty happy - but he decided to pay a visit to the information broker while he was there. Who knew it would be memory loss, Shinra had never tried to imagine Izaya with amnesia because it was almost unimaginable. The unimaginable was happening right at that moment.

Curious to know his friend's fate, he stayed behind with Celty as a doctor entered Izaya's hospital room, and began his tests and examinations. After ten or so minutes, he came back out again.

"I'm assuming you are friends of Orihara Izaya?" the doctor asked, to which they nodded just to make him spill the news, "I'm afraid he has amnesia. It's a common symptom of head trauma, so no surprise there. It's most likely not permanent, however, it's quite troublesome that he cannot remember anything, not even his name. The best cure is to get him with the people he loves, show him things he used to do, or the things he was familiar with."

The doctor eyed Shinra's white coat and shrugged, "Then again, since you're a doctor yourself I guess you knew that. Will you be willing to take care of him while he's in this condition?"

Celty tilted her head in a troubled fashion, 'Can't he stay here?'

The doctor leaned forwards to read the words on her PDA, "If he's got friends to take care of him, we'd rather give him into their hands. Besides, can't you talk? It's rather rude you know."

Celty made an apologetic gesture, which further confused the doctor. Before he could remark on the woman's silence, Shinra cut in, "Can we talk to him first before we talk about who's going to take care of him?"

"Of course," the doctor nodded, and turned to take his leave, "When you're done, come get me. I'll be in the staff room."

Upon entering, they found the familiar face of Izaya to be sitting there, seeming quite puzzled. He seemed like another person to see him without his scheming glances and his crooked grin. When he noticed the two newcomers enter the room, he looked up and gave a friendly wave.

"Oh hello, if it isn't the doctor-kun who was in my room when I first woke up," Izaya greeted, face quite blank as he encouraged them to take a seat, "Do take a seat please. I have much to inquire."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

'So we're letting him go just like that?' Celty hesitantly showed Shinra her PDA.

"It can't be helped Celty!" Shinra said, crossing his arms as he watched Izaya slowly walk away, hands in his pockets as he adorned that infamous fur coat of his, "I don't want to take care of him, you don't want to take care of him, we both don't want to take care of him! The hospital refuses to take him if he's got company, so what can we do?"

'...'

* * *

Izaya didn't know what to feel, so he just kept his face neutral. He had a friend, not-friend named Shinra Kishitani, who happened to be an underground doctor, who was also in a relationship with a dullahan named Celty Sturluson. The 'headless' girlfriend had a helmet on, so he couldn't see if what he said was true but he definitely wanted to find out.

The hospital didn't want him around. There had been many bad incidents recently, and there were many other patients that could use the bed. He also got the feeling that the hospital had made a background check on him, and know of his not-so-friendly occupation as a information broker. Therefore, he was kicked out to be taken care of by his 'friends', who despite their efforts, made it obvious that he wasn't well liked.

He didn't want to hang around people who didn't want him around anyways - at least that's what he told himself. Before they abandoned him, he made sure to milk as much information as he could out of them… he didn't want to be completely helpless. Thanks to Shinra and Celty's explanations, the strange world he lived in began to become more understandable… and strange. He liked it that way.

'Be careful on your way home.'

The headless woman seemed worried. The doctor had his business smile fixed on, and agreed with his girlfriend seemingly just for the sake of agreeing. With not many experiences to go on, Izaya decided to run on instinct since it was the most accurate thing he was equipped with so far. His instinct was telling him he wasn't appreciated.

"Don't worry about it Celty-san," Izaya smiled wryly, cocking his head back with a certain amount of attitude, "I'm sure you're_ soooo_ worried about me, but relax, I'll be fine~"

He didn't care if his words stung or not, he just wanted to get settled somewhere and start reclaiming his life. It was unsettling to be in a city he didn't know, with people he didn't recognize. Maybe the old him would have known them like the back of his palm, but the current Izaya was clueless as ever. If only someone trustworthy would help him out through the process, but not even the doctor would. He had great friends, and he could tell.

Then again, perhaps he should be more thankful. The person seeming worried about him wasn't even human, but it was someone.

"I joke, don't mind me," Izaya spoke up again, catching the attention of the dullahan, "Thanks for worrying about me... I appreciate your concern."

Celty seemed surprise at his gratitude and almost flustered at his sudden remark, 'A-ah, no problem. Sorry we can't help you while you're in this state.'

Izaya frowned. The message she was conveying was not true.

"It's not that you can't help me, but you won't help me is that not so?" Izaya said, stuffing some guilt into the woman's heart, "And please, you make me sound disabled."

Celty seemed to still as she absorbed his words into her smokey, non-existent brain. She looked almost apologetic, and regretful. She seemed to be typing another message on her PDA, when Shinra's bright and fluffy voice came sailing into the room along with him himself, "CEEELLTTYYYYYYY MY LOVE AND ONE AND ONLYYYY! IT IS LATE AND WE MUST COMBINE INTO ONE IN THE CASTLE WE CALL _THE BED_, HERE I COOOMEEEE- OOOFOFF!"

Izaya grinned. There was some amusement to be found in watching Shinra get beat up by his headless girlfriend.

* * *

Now wandering 'home' (Shinra had given him the address), he was especially cautious of a blonde-haired bartender. He didn't want to be thrashed, right after being hospitalized with a head injury. He doubted he had any of the fighting abilities Shinra described him to have at the moment, and Izaya didn't want to die just when, as far as he was concerned, he hadn't even started living yet.

Despite his worries, the city awed him. The lights that were starting to glow as the sun set, the sound of people walking and talking, cars driving around, it was so intriguing. He wanted more, and didn't want to stop listening and listening and listening.

He had to get home though. First get a grasp of who he was, how he worked, and all before he enjoyed himself in the company of people. Izaya leaped on a train to Shibuya, using the money he had found in the wallet he received back from the hospital (the wallet apparently his - it was loaded, to the point where his hospital bill was nothing), and the address led him to an high end apartment, with shiny windows and a homely feel to it.

Even as he waited for the elevator to reach his floor, Izaya was in awe of the wealth. Even the measly elevator music seemed high quality, and it made him wonder how much he really earnt to be able to live in this grand place.

When he came to the room that was apparently his, Izaya fumbled around his wallet for his room card, deciding he would explore this labyrinth of money as soon as he was in bed. It wasn't needed, because before he could even slide the card into the scanner, the door opened by itself, to reveal a slim woman.

The woman had nice long brown hair, and a green sweater. She would have looked rather nice, if it wasn't for the scowl that adorned her face like a pimple adorned a nose.

"About time you got back. Do you know how many meals I had to refrigerate for you? Four. I stopped cooking by yesterday. I think I deserve a vacation, after you made me do all the paperwork alone and spend all my precious time in your stinking apartment when I could have been spending precious time with Seiji," She spat, and glared at icily.

It took a while to react, as he tried to remember what a woman could be doing in his apartment. He didn't have a girlfriend or any close family that lived with him according to Shinra, except… his secretary. If only he could remember her name.

"Sorry 'bout that," he replied, as he entered his apartment. He could still feel her stare on his back, even as he entered the room, "Got hit in the head. Got amnesia. Go ahead and take a vacation, but do mind that you're not getting paid."

"What?" She asked initially, confused by what he was saying but shrugged, deciding she didn't care, "Fine! I need the money though, so I'll be back in a few days."

"Bye~ have fun~!" Izaya called, as she grabbed her coat and slammed the door behind her. What an interesting woman, Izaya decided as he took the chance to look around his apartment. It was large, with two floors and lots of books and high quality technology. Sleek looking couches, silky blankets and a soft sultry bed. A great view of the city. Izaya didn't need to look twice to know that he liked this place.

Looking in the fridge, he found the meals his secretary was talking about - some fish, some vegetables, some rice… he silently thanked his secretary for the meal and ate it, while searching through his computer. There were many interesting files, about many different incidents and many different people - which he made note of, deciding to memorize what he could later.

He glanced at the clock, to find that it was getting late. He searched around his cabinets to find what seemed to be his sleepwear. It was so comfortable, Izaya believed that he didn't even need the bed. He flopped onto the mountain of cushions and blankets, and sighed contently as he sunk into the bed.

"I really like this place…" Izaya grumbled, as he rolled around in the blankets that seemed to engulf him in an embrace of warmth. He was mixed into a world he wasn't familiar with, and a job he was sure would bring many dangers, and people who hated his guts. Izaya could sense the troubles that lied ahead. His heartbeat quickened at the thought, out of fear or elation he did not know. He stared emptily at the ceiling, letting his problems sink into his head before he frowned and closed his eyes.

"Whatever."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

A cellphone! What an excellent surprise.

Another cellphone!

Another cellphone? Is it Christmas?

Another cellphone. Does the Easter bunny hide cellphones now?

Another cellphone… in the household plant?

CellphonesCellphonesCellphonesCellphonesCellphonesCellphonesCellphonesCellphonesCellphonesCellphonesCellphonesCellphonesCellphonesCellphonesCellphonesCellphonesCellphonesCellphonesCellphonesCellphonesCellphones

Izaya sat down, cluttering all the cellphones onto his desk, only to find an uncomfortable bump under his butt. He stood up to find another cellphone, touch screen, latest model, cushioned nicely in his comfortable seat. Was one portable device not enough for him? After some thinking, he did admit that being an informant perhaps did need more than quite a few cellphones...

He picked up the touch screen cellphone and started scrolling through it. In his contacts, he had quite a few people he didn't know. Mikado Ryugamine, Masaomi Kida , Celty Sturlson (the headless girl), Shinra Kishitani (friend/not-friend doctor), etc., and Shizu-chan...?

Just plain Shizu-chan, with nothing else to give a clearer picture of who this might be, other than a phone number with a note saying: _'Unless he crushed his phone. Again.'_ Would it be okay if he assumed that it was Shizuo Heiwajima, the man Shinra had described to be his mortal enemy? Izaya sighed, and let his gaze linger over the number. He didn't want to deal with 'Shizu-chan' just yet, he wanted to make sure he could survive in this new world before he went to figure out his troublesome past with a troublesome brute. He had a new concern over money.

With his mind completely reset, he couldn't possibly bargain information and continue working as an informant for the yakuza. The job paid well, Izaya knew it had to since he was able to afford such an expensive apartment, but it was too dangerous for an amnesic him. With no idea of enemies to avoid, the current gangs in the area, or whatever, he doubted he could keep working without running into a lot of trouble, and potentially getting beat up again. Even though he remembered nothing, Izaya sure that he wasn't very fond of hospitals.

He searched through his emails, which revealed many interactions with fishy people. Izaya noticed how interested he had been with the underground world, but he didn't get it. He had no idea for what reason the old him had decided to get into these conflicts in the first place. Was it fun? Exciting? The new him wouldn't know, but it at least didn't sound like so much fun. Maybe when he got his memories back, then he would understand.

He didn't want to let go of his current luxuries due to a amnesia problem that would soon go away - hopefully. Izaya felt that the sooner his memories came back the better, his brain was so empty of information that he thought it might crack since it was so hollow. So empty, just like a certain monster's-*

_...What?_

For a moment, Izaya paused his search through his phones and froze stiff. He felt like he had almost remembered something. He desperately tried to go back to his previous mindset and remember, but it didn't work. Frustration built up inside of him, wondering why amnesia had to happen to him. Did he deserve this? Perhaps.

Izaya frowned at the thought, not pleased with the notion that he could potentially be a jackass. Surely someone involved with underground affairs couldn't possibly be a good person. Was this karma getting back at him? The thought bothered him, and he couldn't help but feel distressed about the type of person he could possibly be. Would it be as bad as Shinra had described him? He had initially believed that Shinra was merely exaggerating, but...

_"You were always a shady fella!" Shinra laughed, seeming content to finally spew out his inner thoughts about his childhood friend, "Scheming, troublesome, and twisted. You messed up a lot of people's lives, and you've thrown the whole city into hell."_

...Izaya wasn't sure if he liked Shinra, despite the friendly aura he projected around him. Contrary to his cheery, sociable appearance, Izaya felt that he only really cared for his headless woman, with all other orders of life coming second. Shinra intrigued him, and Izaya decided that he was an interesting person.

Speaking of Shinra, he needed to get Shinra to help him contact Shiki, his supposed yakuza client/boss/partner.

He pressed Shinra's name and waited for the call to go through. What he heard wasn't exactly what he had expected. Perhaps he should have though.

_"CELTY! ARE YOU TELLING ME GETTING NAKED IN THIS PINK APRON IS NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOOU?"_ Shinra hollered, seeming to be in tears as Izaya listened to some sort of chaos was taking place on the other side of the phone, _"I understand… HOW ABOUT NO APRON AT ALL- OOOFFFUHH!"_

Izaya waited patiently, unable to hide his amusement at Shinra's idiocy as a wide grin spread across his face. Shinra continued to throw himself at Celty, going lower and lower as he even declared he would walk outside in his birthday suit, wearing only a sign that said 'LOVE CELTY'. When he heard Shinra's breath in the receiver, he realized the phone must be within Shinra's earshot.

"Shinra-kun, I didn't realize you were such a romantic. It's a shame though, is your girl not responding as you hope?"

Shinra finally seemed to realize Izaya's presence in that whole ordeal.

_"I- *sob* -Izaya-kun~! Li-Listen *hic* to meee, Celty- she doesn't appreciate my loooove!"_ he wailed. Izaya heard a shuffle in the background, presumably Celty, as the phone was wretched away from Shinra's grasp. Izaya blinked in surprise when he heard a monotonous drone, a sign that the call had been hung up.

"How rude…" Izaya pulled his lips into a pout, before he realized he had gotten a message.

* * *

_I'm sorry for Shinra's idiocy. Please forget this ever happened. _

_~Celty Sturluson_

_When you get yourselves together, please contact me back. As people who have abandoned me in my time of need, the least you could do is help me out occasionally… _

_~Orihara Izaya_

* * *

Without too much trouble, (with Shinra still wailing in the background), Izaya had managed to appoint a meeting with Shiki-san at 5 o'clock that day. To say that he was slightly nervous would be an understatement.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

5 o'clock was incredibly short notice.

Izaya fiddled with his thumbs as he spun in his chair - at a speed one could call dangerous. He didn't want to mess up anything when he had no clue how to handle this troublesome man Shinra had described him to be.

Should he wear a suit? Would that look like he was making too much of an effort? When he talked, should he smile to relax them or should he remain serious? Like a middle school girl getting ready for a date, Izaya fussed over finer details to the point where he felt as if he might as well rip all of his hair out and wear it for clothing. For perhaps the millionth time since the incident, he wished he could get his memories back. With no experience, he was feeling clueless and unknowing of what to do, or how to take care of a situation.

Izaya gave up, finding that delicacy was proving to not be his forte. He took the fur coat he had been told he wore almost exclusively, and left his apartment, bringing many pocket knives and cellphones. The fur coat gave him an appearance that made him seem stronger and more confident that perhaps he really was. At that moment, he felt that he definitely needed the coat.

As he felt the grip of his pocket knife (that seemed to fit perfectly in his hands), he found that it was interesting how many knives he had found stashed away in his apartment, in the most amazing places. Under the bed, on top of the fridge, and he had also revealed a whole collection of pocket knives hidden in his coat pockets. Next to the sharp pointy blade in his cupboards, was a note saying: "Running low. Ask for more." (Ask for more knives from who? Izaya was confused and slightly wearied of all the puzzling notes he made for himself.)

It was easy to navigate through the crowd. His body seemed to know better how to move than he did, which he was glad for. Many people had gotten off of work and there was quite some traffic but it didn't take too long to arrive to the rendezvous point, which was a hotel in Shibuya. The place was high class, which made Izaya question his choice of his informal fur coat, but he didn't really care what they thought as long as they let him in.

Right when he entered, a butler-like figure approached him, somehow already knowing his name.

"Right this way, Orihara-san."

The butler-person led Izaya into a dark lounge, where the staff presumably hung out. There were two expensive couches facing each other, a coffee table in between. On one of the couches, sat a serious man with an intimidating aura around him. Two strong body guards on each side, though they looked rather expressionless, Izaya didn't miss the small curious glance they made towards him. So this was Shiki, Izaya thought, observing the graceful way the man poised himself.

"Orihara, a pleasure to meet again," Shiki spoke with a very polite tone of respect, something Izaya suspected Shiki used for all of his business affairs, "Sit down. We have much to talk about."

* * *

"Amnesia," Shiki repeated. His expression was unreadable, which unnerved Izaya slightly.

"Unfortunately so Shiki-san," Izaya nodded, with a blank look equipped on himself since he had no idea what to do with his face, "Due to this incident, I'm afraid I don't think I'll be of much service to you. I can't even remember how I worked, let alone my information network."

Shiki's eyes seemed to narrow at Izaya, and he felt as if he was being analyzed. He didn't mind, after all it wasn't like he was lying or had any secrets that would place him in a bad situation. He didn't know anything.

"What do you suggest?" Shiki asked, face still neutral and stony. If Izaya hadn't been so perceptive, he might have missed the flicker of amusement in the yakuza's eyes.

"The amnesia is not permanent, so I don't expect to be out of commission forever," Izaya stated, copying Shiki's cold look since it seemed better than nothing, "Though I am useless as of now, I don't think you will want to drop me since of what I've heard, I was a valuable asset to you."

Shiki's silence encouraged him to go on, despite his intimidating body guards that towered over Izaya like he was an ant.

"I propose that until my memory returns I'd be put out of yakuza business," Izaya said, folding his hands into his pockets, "I'm ashamed to say that I can't defend myself, run errands, or provide any assistance. I can guarantee I won't be going into yakuza business behind your backs, as Shinra has given me a pretty good idea of your way with dealing with nuisances."

The way Izaya put it made Shiki smile, just slightly.

"I will mainly be taking jobs from the wealthier people. When my memory does return, I'll be sure to inform you and it can go back to the usual business. Would that be agreeable to you?"

Shiki looked Izaya in the eyes for a while longer. Izaya didn't know if he was just imagining it, (which he believed he probably was), but the corners of Shiki's eyes seemed to soften.

"What kind of jobs?"

"Requests that come my way… rest assure, nothing that will affect the Awakusu-Kai."

"And if it does?"

"Well then, it would be up to you what you would want me to do."

When Shiki's unwavering glance finally let loose, Izaya sensed the finish of a conversation. He gave a friendly smile, as an incentive to make Shiki feel as if Izaya was naive and trustworthy. It seemed to give a different effect, as Shiki returned it with his own amused smile.

"Interesting. Your proposal sounds fine to me," Shiki replied. They shook hands and left the lounge at a even pace, with two bulky guards trailing behind, "I'm grateful you have informed me on your status. It is important for me to know of the condition of my fellow business partners and how well they'll be able to work."

"Shiki-sama, your concerns are too much for me," Izaya replied back, copying the way Shiki spoke.

"Not at all," Shiki nodded, "My apologies for making you come here on short notice. I had to deal with an unfortunate client here, and figured since I was in the area that it would be convenient to deal with you too."

Izaya frowned, and couldn't help but state, "Shiki-sama, you make me sound like a thorn in your bush. Then might I ask, have you finished dealing with me?"

Shiki didn't answer, but Izaya didn't miss the small smile that spread over the older man's face. Izaya watched him get into the shiny black limo in front of the hotel, distracted by what the smile could possibly mean. He kept up his facade of calm until he made sure Shiki was out of eyesight. He finally allowed himself to relax.

* * *

"Shiki-san, do you think he really has…?" one of the guards asked, seeming hesitant and very scared. It seems that curiosity had taken over him and Shiki would have punished him if it wasn't for the fairly good mood he was in. The other guard didn't want to interfere and save his fellow partner, if it was the expense of his own life.

"It seems so. We have the analysis of the hospital he was in, which does prove that he is telling the truth," Shiki replied stoically, "I wouldn't be too surprised if he was faking though. Then again, I am the one responsible for him so I don't really mind."

"Is that so…" the guard said, and the other guard gave him a quick nudge on the shoulder, signaling for him to shut up.

"It is," Shiki said, scaring the two guards out of their wits, "How nostalgic, seeing him like that... Before I forget, if you do let your curiosity get the better of you again, I might have to take some measures to make sure your manners are always in place."

That quieted the two guards for the rest of the day, remaining deadly silent even after they were off duty.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Izaya decided it was time to explore the outside world.

Having stayed holed up in his apartment for two days straight hadn't done him a lot good healthwise, and he was fed up with hospitals, and in particular, doctors. Izaya had tried to flip through everything he had stored in his apartment, but he was unsuccessful due to the excessive amounts of information he owned.

Legs itching for action, yearning for the outside world, Izaya had enough of his home, though he still admitted it was a very swell place. He had also received some strange texts from Kida Masaomi, about something important they needed to discuss and etc etc. Izaya didn't really understand, but he was interested. Perhaps he would bump into that blonde haired boy?

Humming, he made his way to the door, deciding not to wear his fur coat and use a grey hoodie instead, to not be as noticeable. Apparently the fur coat was iconic for him, and he still wanted to avoid danger.

As soon as he stepped into the city, he decided that it was definitely worth it. The buildings, the sun, the people. In Shibuya he noticed that there were considerably less youths and more elders, but nevertheless it was still a great place to look around. Gradually, after lack of action, Izaya felt slightly bored. Perhaps he would go to Ikebukuro after all.

Yes, that was a good idea. With a flick of the head, he started walking towards the city, unaware of the dangers he had to face every time he stepped foot into the beast's territory.

* * *

Shizuo wasn't very happy, and he blamed it all on a certain flea.

Incidents had been happening in Ikebukuro. Every now and then, suddenly a large amount of people would be severely injured and hospitalized, but there had been no reason for it. Inspectors found no leads, and every person seemed to have no connection to each other; victims all said the same, 'it happened so fast I didn't see a thing'. Due to his pandemonium strength, naturally Shizuo had been suspected. He didn't like being suspected for something he didn't do, since it reminded him of bad memories, and it reminded him of people he would rather have dead.

Speaking of dead, Shizuo realized he hadn't seen the flea for a while. Perhaps he had really killed him? A spark of cheer arose in his chest as he mindlessly followed Tom, trusting that his employer would lead them to the next debtor who was late on fees. Then again, it wouldn't have surprised him if the flea was still alive, since even death seemed to hate him.

"Nakamura-san! Nakamura-san!" Tom called, knocking on the door of a worn down motel room, "Oi, I know you're in there!"

There was a silence, as Shizuo pulled himself out of his thoughts and to the current situation.

"Nakamura-san," Tom tried again, resorting to banging instead, "Your debts are long due! Open up!"

More silence. Shizuo didn't have the patience for these types of people, who tried to delay an inevitable situation that was caused by themselves. They seemed to think that they would be able to get away with whatever they did as long as they continued to run… run? Just like a certain flea….

Tom noticed the vein that popped out of Shizuo's forehead, "Calm down Shizuo-kun, we don't have to resort to that just yet. Besides, the agency was just complaining about property damage a few days ago and it would be best to keep low for a while so they can get over it."

"Sorry Tom-san," Shizuo took a deep relaxing breath, fingers itching to reach for his cigarettes. Tom was right, he was causing trouble by losing control too often. He needed some self-restraint, some hardcore self-restraint. Instead, he resorted to chanting, verbal violence being less destructive than physical violence. Kill kill kill kill kill kill kill…

"Nakamura-san, if you don't come out we will bust down your door! This is your last warning!" Tom said, and waited for a reply. Suddenly, loud sounds and a yell came from inside, along with the sound of a clumsy, clambering man trying to get away.

"Go Shizuo!" Tom yelled, as Shizuo broke the door like it was made of paper. There he was, the chubby man who was climbing out of his window. As soon as Nakamura's feet touched ground, he fled with a grey suitcase in his grasp. Shizuo promptly took chase, with Tom trailing behind him, slowly falling behind.

"No no no, this can't be happening," Nakamura gasped out, already out of breath from lack of physical exertion. He let out a terrified squeak when he saw through the glass reflection of a convenience store, the terrifying view of the blonde-haired bartender catching up to him, each footstep like an earthquake, similar to a train about to run him over.

"AAAAAAAHHH!" Nakamura screamed, just when an iron grip catched his collar, almost choking him as his own weight and speed worked against him, making him trip and fall on his face. Shizuo was barely out of breath, and glared at him with fiery eyes.

"You bastard, making me and Tom go through all this trouble," Shizuo growled, muscles screaming for him to volley him into the Toyko Tower, "Pay your debts dammit!"

"N-Never, haah, i-impossible, " Nakamura gasped heavily, eyes tearing up as his mind was overtaken by fear, "I-Izaya pro-promised me this would, haaah, never hap-happen…!"

Shizuo's eyebrows twitched. All rational thought was lost.

"So it was the flea eh… SO IT WAS THE FLEA EHHHH?" Shizuo roared, readying to toss him to the moon, bench lifting the overweight man like Nakamura weighed nothing, "You see, I would usually forgive you as long as you paid for your troubles, but SINCE YOU MENTIONED, AND ARE INVOLVED WITH IZAYA-KUN, IT CAN'T BE HELPED RIGHT?"

At this point, Nakamura was about ready to wet himself, already having said his prayers and his goodbyes to his family and friends. Just as Shizuo lurched forwards, with enough force to uproot several trees at once, he saw Satan, the Devil himself, the mortal enemy, the evildoer, the coward, the hated one, in the corner of his eye.

Izaya Orihara, skipping frivolously in his city.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Izaya did not expect to see a vending machine fly through the air like a UFO saucer. Nor did he expect said vending machine to land merely a couple centimeters away from his face.

"_IIIZAAAAYAAAAA-KUUUUUNNNN_…!"

A pang struck his chest, but for reasons unknown. Something about the drawl made Izaya nostalgic and… but before he could figure out what other strange emotions he was experiencing, he noticed a growing shadow above his head. By instinct, he moved out of the way, only to have just slightly avoided the painful fate of becoming Izaya pizza by a happy red mailbox - a mailbox that suddenly didn't seem so happy anymore once it was reduced into a pile of mail and metal.

Izaya peeked around the two completely obstructed public properties, to find a blonde bartender. Every step the bartender made was a small earthquake. The wind pressure of a wildly swinging stop sign could already be seen by the way Izaya's hair fluttered back. Izaya swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to reach for the word - the name - that was itching to be spoken.

There was no mistake, it had to be that brute.

"Shizu...chan?" Izaya stated in a way that sounded more like a question, or a label that was waiting to be confirmed.

"I'LL KILL YOU DAMMIT!" the bartender roared, and threw the stop sign like a javelin, to which Izaya had to duck to avoid. Izaya's legs were jittery with energy, and his instincts were screaming for him to run. It wasn't fear he was experiencing, but… excitement? A more accurate word to describe it would be expectancy…

Izaya trusted his instincts. He turned tail and ran, heading back the way he came - back to Shibuya. As long as he had escaped from Ikebukuro - Shizuo Heiwajima's_ territory_ \- the brute should stop following him… or something like that.

The chaos behind him as he gained distance between himself and the beast was enormous. He glanced back every now and then to find a crash as public property was destroyed, and many bewildered people giving way as they saw him rushing towards them. Incredibly thankful for his agility, Izaya deemed himself close to safety when he approached the west gate, slightly proud that he had managed to survive Ikebukuro's "strongest man".

That is, until he was roughly yanked back by the hood, by someone he failed to recognize.

"No, fighting bad," A tall, muscular black man said, a very displeased look in his dark eyes. He wore a sushi chef uniform, and was brandishing a sign that said "TRY OUT OUR NEWEST SUSHI COMBOS!"

"I GOT YOU NOW, IZAAAYAAA-KUUU... Simon?" the blonde (Shizu-chan... Shizuo... Shizuo-chan?) just barely managed to skid to a halt in front of the sushi man, who had Izaya in one hand and a sign he had somehow managed to make look intimidating in another.

"Shi-zu-o, fighting bad," the man shook his head, and took Shizuo in a choke hold with his arm, "Sushi good. Eat sushi together. Make up."

Izaya could only watch in distress and desperation, as they were both dragged towards the sushi restaurant, and the West Gate - which had stood as a symbol of hope and freedom to him during his escape from the beast - fade away into the distance.

* * *

The flea was unusually quiet.

Shizuo didn't mind, he quite enjoyed the silence much more than the annoying rambling the informant tended to make. Nevertheless, even the quietude of the two while Simon dragged them both to Dennis's sushi store couldn't calm him from his fury. The stench of the flea was strong, and he would have given almost anything if Simon would let go and let him rip the flea to shreds.

Izaya's head bobbled with every footstep Simon made, and he seemed to be staring off into the distance. He was definitely plotting something again, and the very thought angered Shizuo.

That was no good, he hated violence. Shizuo decided to channel his frustration into words instead of actions.

_"DamnitDamnitDamnitDamnitDamnitDamnitDamnitDamnitDamnitDamnitDamnitDamnit…"_

* * *

When the other began chanting, Izaya managed to snap out of his daze. If this supernaturally strong person would throw things at the very sight of him with no hesitation… then what were the possibilities the blonde wouldn't kill him at the sushi restaurant. Close to none.

Then again, somehow Shizuo seemed to be unable to overpower this mysterious black man. Perhaps this man would ensure his safety? Then again, could this man be trusted with the knowledge of his new vulnerability?

Izaya tried to concentrate and think of a plan, but the quiet chanting kept distracting him. The blonde had started off with _'Damnits_', which escalated to_ 'Kill'_, which escalated to _'Murder'_, which escalated to _'Die_', which escalated to…the black man (was it Simon? That's what Shizu-chan had called him...) was either ignoring the blonde, or simply didn't hear him.

Izaya had a strong urge to tell the blonde to shut up. He decided against it, thinking it would cause more unnecessary wrath that he didn't need or want in his current life. Then again, being chased had undeniably given him a sense of rush that he had a hard time describing… did he have a fetish for this type of activities?

Izaya groaned, praying to the heavens that he didn't. It would be a very pitiful and strange fetish to have…

* * *

When the flea groaned, Shizuo was surprised. The only rare times when he managed to get the flea and hurt him pretty bad did he hear any signs of humanity in the flea, but otherwise Izaya was just a dick through and through.

"What wrong Izaya?" Simon inquired, as he easily lugged Izaya along as if Izaya was simply a child. With Simon's size and Izaya's height, it almost looked like that in a way. Shizuo had to stumble along in a chokehold, which he had lost count of how many times he had tried to escape… only to have his strength used against him and being held in a tighter hold.

"Nothing, just thinking," Izaya easily replied, in a way that seemed so normal. In a way, it was out of character… Orihara Izaya Shizuo knew would have replied in a snarky, smooth manner that never ceased to piss Shizuo off the topper.

"Think less, eat sushi," Simon stated easily.

* * *

The black man Simon was surprisingly nice.

The scary look he adorned had given Izaya the expectation that the man would be cold and hard, like an assassin of some sort… but the broken Japanese and the way the man grinned could only be described as friendly. Unless it was all a trick, in which case…

Ah, thinking too hard was indeed unhealthy.

Speaking of thinking to hard, Izaya didn't fail to notice the multiple veins bulging out of the blonde's forehead. Chances of survival were low, and now was the time to escape… if only the man hadn't been holding him in such a way that any way he moved would be difficult.

That's when Izaya noticed a sushi restaurant coming near. So soon? It couldn't be that one right? It had to be a mistake right? Right?

"We are here!"

And with those three tragic words, the two enemies were placed together in the same room, with lots of colorful sushi stacked on the table. Izaya stared at the blonde, wondering what was going to happen next, very ready to whip out a pocket knife if he needed to (or kick down the walls and escape).

The man simply sat down and started chowing on sushi.

Izaya blinked, and sat down opposite to him, before doing the same, more hesitantly.

It seems that sushi could tame the monster.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"As usual, the only times they're quiet is when they're eating isn't it Simon?" Dennis commented, as he folded new rolls of sushi.

"Izaya is strange today," Simon remarked, standing beside Dennis diligently since he couldn't make sushi as well as the other sushi chief, "When I bring them here, Izaya did no taunting. He is very quiet."

"Is that so?" Dennis said, eyebrows rising slightly, "That's interesting. Maybe they're finally getting along."

"Yes, friends is good. Friends have no fighting," Simon agreed, though they didn't quite seem like friends just yet. Izaya seemed almost apathetic about Shizuo's presence, which was very rare for him. Usually the restaurant would be in ruins, destruction mainly caused by Shizuo, who was provoked by Izaya. This was a very special occasion indeed.

Maybe the apocalypse had finally arrived.

* * *

After the silent and slightly awkward meal was finished, Shizuo sauntered away. Izaya didn't have it in him to tell him to get back here and help pay for the meal, because before Shizuo had left, he gave Izaya a nice searing glare accompanied by the beautiful bulging vein on his forehead.

Shizuo was probably trying to tell him something. Perhaps he was expressing his everlasting gratitude? Izaya snorted at his own joke, and pulled out his wallet to pay for the meal that held a price that was obviously jacked up a few thousand notches.

Simon and the other guy (with a name tag that said Dennis) obviously had been expecting him to say something, perhaps something rude or taunting, but Izaya wasn't up to it. He'd much rather get out of the restaurant and go home. He just gave the two a curt nod out of politeness and paid the fee, leaving with his hands on his pocket knives and a lighter wallet.

So Simon had dragged him halfway across Ikebukuro just to pay for Shizuo's meal. How wonderful. How _absolutely_ delightful. Next time, perhaps he should practice his death glare a bit so he could use it on that infuriating sushi man.

In spite of his feelings of betrayal, he could admit that he appreciated Simon due to his ability to subdue the stupid blonde, the stupid _protozoan_. ...Protozoan? Yes, that was quite accurate. The dumb, single-celled protozoan. Protozoan, protozoan, protozoan. On the way out of Ikebukuro, he didn't bump into Shizuo-kun again...

Halfway to the West Gate, he checked the time on his cellphone. With a single tap, he was very satisfied to see it light up with it's high definition pixels and all. It was very pleasing to have a great phone. The satisfaction quickly died away when he saw the time. The paperwork would be piling up. It would be a good time for his secretary to come back… the small fine print words were starting to drive him crazy.

Speaking of which, what was his secretary like? She seemed quite nasty when he had first bumped into her, but he had been hospitalized for quite some time and anybody would pull a hissy fit if their boss had been away while they worked hard, without even a paycheck. Izaya remembered the name in his contacts with her picture. Namie Yagiri. That was her name wasn't it? He tried to recall the details of her background.

"The ex-director of the Yagiri Pharmacy…?" Izaya muttered to himself, as he distractedly strolled down the sidewalk, "At least that's what was written on-"

A group of teenagers suddenly bustling their way through the streets, almost pushing him off the sidewalk. Izaya blinked at the teens who busily chattered away, in their extreme clothing and bleached hair. Izaya hadn't noticed many teenagers in Shibuya. The population mostly consisted of adults and elders after all, so the appearance of these youths slightly surprised him.

Izaya let out a hefty sigh as he watched the teens turn and disappear down another street. Ah, youths. He'd like to live in an interesting city like Ikebukuro, full of naive teens with bright futures. Perhaps Shizuo wouldn't mind making him some room to move there, if he asked politely? Then again, Izaya doubted any person with rationality and the ability to compromise, would have the same mindset to randomly throw vending machines at innocent bystanders.

A crash. Nearby.

Immediately, Izaya assumed the worst. The protozoan wouldn't have followed him here... would he? Izaya grumbled, as he picked up his pace and ducked into a nearby alleyway. Perhaps he wouldn't be noticed. He fiddled with his pocket knife just for reassurance.

Izaya waited for a good measure of time, counting the seconds pass as he stayed alert, only to find that nothing was happening. Confused, Izaya emerged from the alleyways, wondering what in the world had caused that noise. Surely that yelling and roaring bartender couldn't possibly remain this quiet after making such a ruckus.

He made his way towards where he believed the noise came from, turning right at the next street which was only a couple streets away from his residence. Izaya was surprised. The group of teenagers that had just passed him earlier were all on the ground, seeming to be unconscious, dead, or asleep.

He prowled closer, keeping an eye out for any suspicious people. Strangely the street had become deserted for all except him and the group of adolescents on the ground. When Izaya got merely a few steps away from the nearest boy, he was quite surprised to find that many had broken bones, and a few were bleeding rather heavily. The injuries were seemingly caused by a blunt weapon.

Izaya immediately called for an ambulance, an ambulance that arrived much faster than he expected. (And he had low expectations at that point. Ambulances seemed to never arrive fast enough... like, the time he stabbed... wait, since when did he get stabbed? Izaya got a headache from trying to remember.)

When the paramedics began loading the teens into the vehicle, he noticed how the paramedics seemed paranoid about him. Almost skittish. They were incredibly wary and asked endless amounts of questions, to most of which he replied with 'I don't know.' Perhaps they knew him, as Orihara Izaya the informant? Izaya scowled, finding his reputation as an information broker to be quite a pain. How he would love to see someone seem genuinely happy to see him for once.

He gave a kind farewell as they drove away to the hospital, satisfied he had managed to talk them out of bringing him with them for further questioning. Enough was enough, he only found them after all, it wasn't like he had anything to do with the teens. Or did he? Izaya tried to think back to when he was still in the hospital, with the doctors pestering him about moving out to provide more room for other patients...


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Namie Yagiri was an interesting woman indeed.

Izaya stared at his tea, which for some mysterious reason was boiling and bubbling despite being room temperature. The purple liquids relentlessly emitted the foul stench of maggot-infested fish and feces.

"N...Namie-San? Is this poison?"

She continued to work, acting as if she hadn't heard him at all.

"This is poison isn't it? Namie-san? Naaaamieee-saaaaan?"

As per usual, she stared icily at her paperwork in silence. Izaya briefly wondered what kind of human being could possibly whip up such a vulgar and _weird_ drink. Unless, she was a wizard (more like witch)? The possibility was surprisingly high, taking into account her strange tendencies and that scowl that adorned her face. She might as well be wearing a wart on her forehead.

"You know Namie-san, you would look quite nice if you _smiled_ more," Izaya stated.

It was a simple few words... a small innocent sentence that was meant as a piece of advice that was unfortunately not taken well.

Before he knew it, she had stomped over to him and dropped a huge stack-load of papers onto his desk with a huge crash. Papers flew about, and all Izaya could do was sit stiffly as he stared into the eyes of a demon. When you stare into the eyes of the abyss, the abyss stares back at you. Those philosophical idiots who said that were shockingly correct.

"Shut up, and work," she breathed, a deadly whisper that made more threats than one ever could in such a short span of time. A shiver ran up Izaya's spine. The possibility that Namie was a witch was no longer a hypothesis, but it was a confirmed theory. Izaya nodded meekly, and began writing before Namie impaled him with his keyboard.

* * *

Izaya's new, scary life with a monster-secretary named Namie had begun approximately three days before, while returning after calling an ambulance, and running into a blonde haired idiot who threw stop signs around like banana peels. He had paused at the door, once again fumbling through his wallet.

"About time you got back," The long haired woman opened the door for him, before he could slide his room card in the scanner, "Took long enough."

Izaya had been rather surprised to see his secretary's return so soon, though he knew the reason. She was only staying away for a few days, since she needed the money. When confronted with the cold stoic expression, Izaya sighed. The woman hadn't changed in appearance at all, still wearing the same green sweater, the same red skirt and the same ugly scowl.

"Sorry 'bout that," he replied, the same way he replied when he first walked into his big wealthy home just for the sake of doing so, "I was visiting Ikebukuro."

Namie rolled her eyes and shut the door behind him as he entered, watching patiently as he took off his shoes and hung his grey sweater in his closet. She blinked and scoffed at his actions, before she went to the couch (where a lot of paperwork was stacked) and sat down, continuing her sorting.

"What is it?" Izaya asked half-heartedly, as he made his way to his computer. He had to write an email to a potential client, and he was in the middle of thinking of how to construct the email most efficiently.

"...It seems you've finally picked up a few good habits," Namie replied, her tone cold and her eyes uncaring, "I was getting tired of hanging your stuff in your closet for you. It seems even a hopeless hated bastard like you can learn when enough is enough."

Izaya glanced at her, pausing his writing.

Hopeless hated bastard? Izaya was quite surprised by her choice of words. While her direct attitude irked him, it was quite satisfactory to be told outright what kind of person he had been… albeit quite saddening.

Namie turned out to be quite an observatory woman, and apparently feeling sad was not something the Orihara Izaya would have done.

"What's up with you today?" Namie asked, quite fed up with his strange attitude, "You're not acting like yourself."

"Oh my, don't tell me you didn't know?" Izaya remarked, a little surprised, "I did tell you before you barged out of my apartment, but I suppose you didn't hear… well, no matter. I have _amnesia_ right now."

* * *

Amnesia.

Namie had to take a moment to process the idea. Never in a thousand years did she expect Orihara Izaya to get amnesia. Permanent head damage perhaps. Perhaps trauma, or dementia, or some sort of chronic disorder. Better yet, even getting killed would be nice. Just not amnesia.

Then again, she did faintly remember Izaya saying something about it before she left the last time she was here, but she was in such a rush to get out of the stinking apartment, she didn't quite hear what he was saying (nor did she care).

In other words... It was impossible. He had to be joking. Being a jerk and doing stupid things just to cause trouble for others and be stupid.

"Amnesia." She stated, looking Izaya in the eyes. He looked back at her directly, with a gaze less calculating and scheming than she had ever seen on him.

"Yes." He replied simply.

"You."

"Me."

"With Amnesia."

"Yes."

"As in memory loss."

"Namie-san, weren't you the head of a pharmacy?" Izaya held a somewhat disappointed glint in his eyes, like a child who didn't get the present he wanted, "All of the doctors in this world are becoming incompetent..."

So he still had his dumb mouth attached to him. Namie's disbelieving gaze instantly hardened into a cold, apathetic look, "You know what, I don't care." She emphasized her point by turning away from Izaya and resuming her work.

"Well, thanks Namie-san. I hope you look forwards to babysitting me through this confusing stage of my life," Izaya spoke up, with a hint of a familiar smirk that she would love to punch off his face, "Since you know, I am writing your paychecks."

As usual... childish bastard, once again holding the paycheck above her. She decided to humor him. Name looked at him for a while, and let the fact that she didn't believe a word that he said showing clearly on her face, "Alright... It's not like me babysitting you now is any different from usual."

"Haha, cruel..." Izaya trailed off, giving a pause to almost reflect on his behavior, when it suddenly changed into something more formal and polite, "Thank you very much for your kindness and courtesy. I very much appreciate it."

Namie pursed her lips at her employer's strange attitude. Never had he spoken to her like that. Or perhaps anyone, to the extents of her knowledge. What was up with her employer today? Then something struck her. What about Seiji? Under the pretense of having amnesia, would Seiji remain out of harm's way? Or would that bastard put her precious brother into that sick twisted game he was planning...?.

Namie wouldn't stand for it, not if it concerned Seiji. If Izaya so much let a hair on Seiji's beautiful scalp get cut, she wouldn't hesitate to kill Izaya on the spot.

* * *

Now three days later, Izaya sat writing on his desk, cowering slightly from his secretary. Pen on paper was not how he preferred to work, and that was something he learnt quite quickly.

Izaya glanced longingly at his computer keyboard, wishing he could just type up all of the needed information. A small clink was heard, as he noticed Namie accidentally push her pencil onto the ground. She snatched it back up.

Izaya felt bad for the woman as she silently fumed and gritted her teeth. Perhaps Namie-san was having a bad month or something. It was easy to see that she was in a very bad mood, but he didn't see any reason for her to get so upset at him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

When the picture of the most miserable cat he had ever seen was shown to him, all his expectations had immediately fallen flat.

It had been the earliest cracks of dawn when his cellphone rang. The sun was just starting to dye his dark high-rise apartment a nice warm shade of yellow, and Izaya had been feeling particularly comfy in his bed. When Izaya had found the atrocious amounts of coffee in his drawers, he quickly realized that before-Izaya must have had a habit of staying up right into morning hours. It was hard to believe that before-Izaya could resist the beckon of the blankets that seemed to call for him every night.

Despite it all, the ringtone belonged to a Shiki-san, who would've no doubt been waiting a while for him to pick up the phone, and angering a yakuza was not on his bucket list at the moment. Izaya quickly sat up and grabbed for the phone, managing to receive the call just before it ended.

"Hm, hello," his yakuza boss/ex-boss/client greeted, "I was almost convinced that you weren't going to pick up."

Not quite content by the hours Shiki was contacting him at, Izaya answered simply "My apologies, I was sleeping like most other normal human beings."

"You were asleep?" Shiki commented as he checked his watch, "My bad, I hadn't expected that of you, if you don't mind me saying. Well, now that you're awake, I need you for an important job. It can't wait, so now would be ideal."

"What?" Izaya replied, fully awake and grabbing for his clothes, "This isn't exactly the best hours to call me for a hand Shiki-san... May I at least know the details of this job?"

"Don't worry, it's nothing dangerous and it won't get you into any trouble as long as you doing go looking for it. I have a driver outside your apartment... Don't keep him waiting."

Within 5 minutes he was up and out the door, having hastily dressed himself in his fur coat again. With barely enough time to prepare himself, he prayed he looked at least half decent as the checked himself. Soon enough, they arrived at a radiant building where Shiki had greeted them with other anonymous well-built men in black suits.

"If I may ask, what's with all the men?" Izaya said, as he stepped out of the car to stand face-to-face with his employer, "and why did you call so early?"

"Nice to see you again Orihara Izaya," Shiki greeted, disregarding his questions, "You look tired."

Izaya frowned at Shiki, "That's not very polite of you Shiki-san. You call me at the earliest cracks of dawn, expect me to be here in 10 minutes, and at the same time expect me not to be tired?"

"Yes, that was quite rude of me wasn't it?" Shiki let amusement show on his features, which was ruined by his stern exterior, "Now that you're here, follow me."

He followed Shiki into a extravagant building, obviously some kind of hotel for the wealthy, with rows of sturdy men on either side of them acting like a barrier or a wall. All of the extra men couldn't possibly mean anything good, but meanwhile he found the pretty chandeliers to be somewhat distracting. Soon he lost interest in staring at the western-style extra-decorated lights.

"Shiki-san, you still haven't answered my questions," Izaya said, directing his gaze towards the stiff-faced yakuza next to him, "What am I needed for? And why all the men?"

"...Not even half of the men belongs to my group," Shiki started as the numbers in the escalators display started to rise, "A woman lives here gives a lot of money to our organization, and she happens to be having some problems."

"What kind of problems?"

"Hm. You'll see."

The vague words left by Shiki left Izaya's imagination soaring to all new heights.

Very soon, Izaya found himself sitting in a very lavished couch, right across from the most fancy being he had ever laid his eyes on. Presented in front of him, a picture of a fluffy yellow cat who looked like it was ready to put itself to death, as it was nearly being suffocated by a crushing hug given to it from the distressed lady.

"She went missing 2 days ago," the lady said, a frown marking her colored features, "As you can see in the picture, she has fluffy cuddly adorable fur the color of an angel's wings and the greenest eyes that will make you feel like a fairy is putting an enchanting spell on you."

"I... Can see that," Izaya observed, not the cat but the strange woman as she stared lovingly at the photo, "So you need someone to find her for you?"

"Yes," the woman nodded, then added pompously, "these incompetents still haven't managed to find her despite being a huge organization which only means that they haven't been trying. I've given them so much financial support but they won't even help me when it comes to it, but since I'm kind this is their last chance to prove to me that they can do something."

"...I see," Izaya blinked, "well, *ahem* please tell me more about this cat of yours..."

It was already past morning when Izaya exited the building, ears ringing from the love and affection she kept rambling about to him for hours on end. It had taken excessive amounts of time to extract any useful information out of her. The sun had well risen, streets bustling with people, and Shiki was there to once again greet him.

"If I'm not wrong, this woman's 'financial support' doesn't hold that great of an impact does it?"

"No, not really. She caused a fuss but I'm not one for wasting resources."

"So in other words, you called me here in the break of down to dump something troublesome on my lap?"

"Now that's not very polite Orihara."


End file.
